from the someone's-still-reading-the-entire-internet-every-day dept

Defenders of national surveillance have often asserted that the government (specifically, its intelligence and investigative agencies) isn't interested in your "emails/phone calls to Grandma" or your "cat videos." It's a stupid dodge which attempts to portray internet surveillance as only focused on legitimate threats to national security.

But the surveillance is omnipresent, and even those who would have honestly felt the government was unconcerned with their internet activities sometimes find themselves being questioned by Secret Service members over humorous articles that dared to invoke the word "President."

I wrote a book about president fighting called How to Fight Presidents, which just came out today. It's a comedic nonfiction book that teaches you, appropriately enough, how to beat the crap out of every single lunatic who ran this country.

Or not every president. People who buy the book (which you can do right here or here) might notice that I've curiously left out every president that's still alive currently. Well, when you do the kind of research associated with this subject matter (Google "Bill+Clinton+weaknesses"), certain flags are raised, flags that the government takes notice of…

I won't get into the specifics of the article, but it was sort of a "how to" guide and has since been taken down (I've no doubt someone in the comments will clarify which article I'm talking about). In addition to having to take the article down, I also get stopped and pulled aside at airports five out of six times that I fly.

The end result was the Secret Service contacting Cracked's HR department in hopes of reaching O'Brien to "discuss" his "lightly treasonous" article. O'Brien's first contact with the Secret Service was via a phone conversation with an agent who explained (rather sympathetically) that while the agency had the capability to recognize satire, it had the duty to run out every ground ball, so to speak.

"I just mean I'm not some, I don't know, government dud. Believe it or not, I've got a sense of humor; most of us do around here. I know it's a comedy website, I know you're doing jokes. It just so happens that it's my job to pay attention when certain ... concepts are brought up online. That article, combined with your fascination with fighting presidents ... well, that's the kind of thing I need to know about."

However, his next stop was a trip to downtown Los Angeles to meet with two Secret Service agents who weren't quite as blessed in the humor department. The two agents were clearly taking the situation as seriously as anyone can take subject matter that describes President Jimmy Carter's daughter escaping a kidnapping vessel by "slicing through the ocean like a goddamned dolphin."

When O'Brien attempted to defend his humorous article by stating it was full of "impractical" and "useless" advice, the agents took it as an admission that he knew plenty of practical and useful ways to pull off the kidnapping of a First Child. The innate ability of the agents to use his own answers against him, as well as their apparent innate lack of a sense of humor, led to O'Brien being asked unanswerable questions like this one:

"In entry #2," Agent Hardass began, "you point out a number of common mistakes people make when breaking into the White House, including, quote, leaving either too much or not enough semen around, end quote. Why did you say that?"

Nothing makes a joke funnier than a long explanation of what's funny about it, and apparently O'Brien was forced to live through this particular form of post-joke hell for a majority of the two hours he was questioned.

If you've ever wondered what it's like to watch comedy as a concept die, I can assure you it's me sitting in a freezing room explaining to two angry government agents why "murder-boner" is an inherently more richly comedic pairing of words than "death-erection."

After exhausting the comedy-or-threat possibilities of O'Brien's article, the agents went on to more easily-answered (but equally difficult to prove) questions like, "Are you a terrorist?" and "Are you affiliated with any terrorist groups?" And... "Do you have the skeleton of Pocahontas stashed in your closet?"

So, all's well that ends well, I suppose, but O'Brien will likely be rewarded for his anti-presidential writings with extra attention at airports and a heightened sense of (mostly justifiable) paranoia. The government may not care about cat videos and grandma, but it still takes every joke about certain subject mattervery seriously.

The NSA (and others) may claim they grab more data than content, but all this limitation really does is ensure your content and data will be completely divorced from their context. O'Brien wrote obviously satirical articles about presidents and had to go explain humor to Secret Service agents. Anyone else who says something that trips the surveillance triggers is now a potential national security target, and at the mercy of agencies that can work backwards through thousands of datapoints and content snippets, completely free to construct their own narrative from the context-free information just sitting around on their servers.

from the you've-got-some-insight-on-your-comedy dept

As you may know, I'm a pretty big fan of Cracked.com. They also share a lot of values with Techdirt. Recently, they published an angry tirade against spammers that's also an interesting look at how years of steadily-increasing crap have shaped user habits and expectations online. Examples include things like browser toolbars, which are almost universally hated and yet still bundled with lots of software and foisted upon users during the install process, often through a confusing combination of checkboxes and accept/decline buttons:

Can you imagine how we would jump down the throat of any real-world business that tried that shit? Imagine ordering your lunch at McDonald's, but when they got to the "fries" question, they phrased it as, "Don't you not want to not have fries with that?" Then, no matter how you answered that ridiculous triple negative, they told you, "By pulling forward to the next window, you are agreeing to buy fries" and shoved them into your car anyway, claiming, "No, you said you wanted them, so now you have to pay for them. No take-backs!" Also, the fries are poison.

It also takes on the fact that most web users ignore virtually all advertising, since so much of it is untrustworthy to a degree that old media rarely reached:

On TV, even if the ad is laced with misleading information (no, Axe Body Spray probably won't lead to instant female-on-male street rape), at least we know that the product is real. Toyota isn't selling you a cardboard car. If you order one of those stupid robe/blanket things, they're going to deliver that retarded, sex-repellant monstrosity to your house. The few ads that do reek of scam are the late night commercials (Enzyte, bullshit diet scams, one-year online colleges), and at least you know when they're coming. You can separate them from the legitimate products. On the net, you just have to assume that everything you see is out to screw you, the only exceptions being brands that you already know.

It's an entertaining read, and one that underlines one of the biggest ways online advertising is different from traditional advertising. When space was limited, the battle was for exposure; when space is unlimited, the battle is for trust and relevance in an increasingly uncertain and noisy world.

from the everybody's-gonna-rain-on-my-parade dept

Last year, Mike praised (and raised a couple of small quibbles with) the hilarious explanation of scarcity by Cracked.com editor David Wong. Now Cracked is tackling digital issues once again with a list of their favourite examples of the Streisand Effect. Many of the examples will be familiar to the Techdirt community, but Cracked's skewed approach is amusing nonetheless. Take the thoughts on Cook's Source editor Judith Griggs' infamous response and "apology" to the writer whose recipe she used without permission, in which she only-half-jokingly suggested the writer should pay her for the editing work she did:

Wow. At this point we can't tell if Griggs is insane, or thought she was auditioning for the part of an 80s movie villain. It was like she stole someone's car and then sent them a bill for the gas she put in it on her way to Mexico.

...

That's so amazing that we'd actually read a magazine based entirely around Griggs trying to apologize to people.

It's not Cracked's funniest article, but it has its moments, although I'm a little surprised they didn't include the original Barbara Streisand story that led Mike to coin the term. A few of the choices seem odd, especially when things like the skinny model affair and the egged German houses were left out—both of which seem like better comedy fodder to me. But what do I know? In any case, it's a fun read.

from the oops dept

We were among the many folks who wrote about the supposed leak of the HDCP master key this week, leading to an interesting discussion in the comments -- including a comment from a big time DRM supporter (he's even written a book about DRM) who scolded us for getting the whole story wrong, insisting that there was no such thing as a master key and that Hollywood never would have agreed to HDCP if there were such a thing. This struck me and some others as odd, as many of us have followed the discussions on HDCP, and I tended to believe Ed Felten's explanation of how HDCP works, which indicated that there was, in fact, a master key. That was from a few years ago, but Felten also just posted another explanation about how HDCP works, and it still seems to involve a master key.

Today, it looks like HDCP -- the DRM that the MPAA insisted was required to allow them to securely distribute movies prior to DVD release -- has been broken. As a result, anyone who is motivated can make an exact digital copy of a "protected" high definition movie. Since all it takes is one motivated individual to make that first copy, this DRM (like every type of DRM before it) now serves absolutely no purpose but to inconvenience legitimate customers.

from the well-that-helped dept

We recently wrote about Ubisoft's annoying new DRM that requires you to be online to play even as a single player game (and which will stop your game even if your WiFi connection flakes out). Many people responded by saying that while they would have bought the game otherwise, now they would just wait for a DRM-free cracked version to show up. Turns out they didn't have to wait long. The DRM was cracked within hours. So again, we're left wondering what good this did? Those who were going to get an unauthorized copy of the game no matter what still did so with no trouble. The only people who are put out are the legitimate buyers, who now have to hope their connection always works and can't play while away from the internet. How does that help anyone?